


The Name's Wolfe, Berenice Wolfe: 007, Licensed to Thrill

by Persiflage



Series: Berena Kissing Prompts [4]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Lesbian Character, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Kissing, Naked Female Clothed Female, Spies & Secret Agents, Tumblr Prompt, Tuxedos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22786354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Alternate Universe where Bernie Wolfe is 007 and Serena Campbell is Head of Station in Jamaica.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: Berena Kissing Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633291
Comments: 24
Kudos: 64





	The Name's Wolfe, Berenice Wolfe: 007, Licensed to Thrill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bat_and_Breakfast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bat_and_Breakfast/gifts).



> Written for the kissing prompt _one sliding their hand into the other’s hair slowly_.
> 
> Honestly, I loved being in the Bond fandom when Judi Dench was M, and I wrote a metric ton of porn for Dench!M/Craig!Bond so it's not entirely surprising my Muse threw this at my head yesterday. Nor is it terribly surprising that I wanted to write much, much more of this. However, in the interests of getting the remaining outstanding prompts written, I reined myself in. If there's interest, I might write a second chapter with more of the plot that I have half formed in my head.

Bernie Wolfe moans as Serena Campbell slides her hand into her hair, then presses her mouth firmly against hers.

“Should’ve done this years ago,” Bernie mutters when Serena releases her mouth.

“Would it have stopped you being a Lothario if I had?” Serena asks, pressing her body more firmly against the other woman’s, eliciting a gasp of what Serena’s fairly sure is desire, although the next moment she’s proved wrong. 

“Lothario? Me?” Bernie asks, sounding outraged.

Serena leans back and looks the other woman up and down, taking in the black tuxedo jacket and trousers, the formal white shirt, which is looking rather less crisp than it did at the beginning of the evening, and the loosened bow tie, the ends of which are hanging down over her chest. She reaches out and clasps the ends of the bow tie, tugging Bernie forward a little.

“You, Berenice Wolfe, are an absolute menace every single time someone sends you on a field mission,” she growls. “Your reputation, 007, is legendary. You shag every single pretty woman you encounter on a mission. It’s a bloody miracle you ever complete a mission, given how much time you spend on your back with a beautiful woman between your spread legs.”

She pushes Bernie back against the door of her suite and kisses her more savagely this time, a spike of jealousy hitting her almost as hard as a spike of lust. She feels wanton in her desire, and she hurries to unfasten Bernie’s trousers, sliding her hand beneath the fabric and moaning into the kiss when she feels how soaked her knickers are. 

Before she can get her hand inside Bernie’s knickers, however, her wrist is clasped in an iron grip and her hand dragged out of Bernie’s trousers.

“Let me make something quite clear to you, Serena Campbell,” Bernie says, her voice low and her tone fierce. “I am not a slut. In the twelve years since I joined Six, I’ve bedded exactly three women while on a mission, and only because I had found no other way to make them tell me what I needed to know to save theirs and others’ lives.”

“Your reputation says otherwise,” Serena says, part of her wanting to struggle with Bernie, but the rest of her knowing how unwise it would be. She’s a station head now and hasn’t been on a field mission since Bernie got her licence to kill four years ago – she knows very well that 007 is far fitter than she’s ever managed to be, a holdover from her years with the SAS: Major Berenice Wolfe was justly famous within the British Army as the most senior woman officer within the SAS. Now she’s merely infamous within Six as a Lothario who gets things done, but at the expense of broken hearts, although Serena acknowledges that broken hearts are better than the broken bodies which certain of the male Double 0 agents leave in their wake when on a field mission.

“Of course it does,” Bernie growls. “I’ve worked bloody hard to acquire that reputation. If men think you’re easy and a slut, they don’t take you seriously as an Agent of MI6, which makes my missions easier to complete with lower loss of life numbers than that of my male counterparts.”

“Oh.” Serena has to admire the deviousness of the woman before her.

“Exactly.” Bernie releases her vice-like grip on Serena’s wrist, then steps sideways away from her nominal boss, fastening her trousers again. She turns to Serena. “I would’ve thought you, of all people, would’ve known better than to accept my reputation at face value. How hard have you had to fight the Old Boy’s network to become a Station Head? How much harder are you going to have to fight if you’re going to become M?”

Serena blinks, startled. “What? Me, M?” she asks disbelievingly.

Bernie frowns at her. “Isn’t that your long-term goal? The current M is in poor health – far too much alcohol over the years. He’ll be lucky if his liver gives him another three years. Your current term as Head of the Jamaican station expires in just over two years. You’d be wise to start campaigning now if you want to step into Sacha Levy’s shoes.”

Serena moves to a chair and sits down, her legs suddenly shaky, shakier she suspects, than if Bernie had fucked her against the door, as Serena had been picturing happening.

“I had only vaguely considered the possibility of becoming M,” she confesses.

Bernie frowns at her. “Really? As ambitious as you are, I just assumed it was part of your long term plans for your role within the Service.”

Serena swallows. “As a renowned strategist, what do you suggest I do?”

Bernie smirks at her, which startles her considerably. “I suggest you forget about it tonight. It’s much too late to be hashing out that strategy. Let me finish what you started against the door, and in the morning I’ll help you draw up a battle plan.”

“You’re incorrigible, 007,” Serena says with a soft laugh.

Bernie shakes her head. “Nope. Pragmatic, practical, and I know what I want.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

Bernie clasps her hand and draws her up from the chair before guiding her back to the door. “I do indeed, Ms Campbell. And right now, what I want is you.”

Serena groans as Bernie’s hot mouth lands on her pulse point and suckles determinedly. As she sucks and bites her hands roam across Serena’s body, igniting a fierce fire of desire that quickly results in Serena’s dress ending up on the floor, along with her black lacy panties and matching bra, and Bernie’s fingers being buried knuckle deep inside her wet, aching sex. 

“Fuck!” Serena exclaims, shocked, when Bernie has driven her to an immensely powerful orgasm that leaves her knees feeling like they’ve been replaced with jelly.

“We did,” Bernie agrees, smirking. Then she slides one arm around Serena’s waist, the other behind her knees, and scoops her off her feet to carry her into the bedroom. She unceremoniously tosses her onto the bed, pulls off the heels Serena’s still wearing, then stands at the foot of the bed devouring Serena with her eyes. 

“Keep the stockings on,” Bernie murmurs, and peels off her tux, then tosses her bow tie on top of it. She toes off her shoes and socks, then unfastens her Oxford shirt. She unbuttons it down the front first, then removes her cufflinks, and Serena gazes intently at the other woman, taking in the way that the two halves of the shirt frame the plain black sports bra that offers support to Bernie’s somewhat smaller breasts. 

She wets her lips, then slides her hand down her body, past her own lush breasts and over her belly. Bernie looks up as she finishes removing her cufflinks and gives Serena a hot glare that she’s surprised to discover effectively stops her in her tracks.

“Don’t you dare get started without me,” Bernie growls, and Serena swallows a whimper, then lifts her hand away. 

Bernie shucks her trousers, and Serena can’t hold back a moan when she sees the other woman is wearing a pair of black silk boy shorts, which have a prominent damp spot on the crotch.

“Fuck, Bernie. How did none of your conquests die of lust?”

007 raises an eyebrow, a half smile curling the corners of her mouth. “Because I satisfied their lusts,” she says. She slips off her shorts and bra, then climbs onto the bed, and straddles one of Serena’s thighs. “Would you like me to satisfy yours?”

“If you think you can,” Serena retorts, because she’s damned if she’s going to make this easy on Major Berenice Wolfe.

“I do think.” A cocky grin. “After all, I already did it once.”

Before Serena can offer a further retort Bernie’s mouth is on hers again, her hands sliding along Serena’s arms to clasp her wrists. She takes them both in her left hand, holding Serena’s hands above her head, then Bernie teases her sex with the tips of the first two fingers of her right hand. Serena can’t quite hold back a whimper, which devolves into a moan as Bernie begins to grind against her thigh, while simultaneously pushing her fingers all the way back inside Serena’s wet heat.

“Fuck!” 

“You know, if I’d known I was going to end up shagging you mercilessly, I’d have brought a couple of my toys with me.”

Bernie’s words are casual, but their effect on Serena is electric, and she clenches her internal muscles tightly around the three fingers buried inside her.

“Toys?” Serena asks a little breathlessly. 

“Mmhmm. I’ve got a few dildos at home. Some women can’t get off with being penetrated by something that looks like a dick. And some women prefer to be penetrated by something that doesn’t look like a dick but is more substantial than fingers.”

“I’ve always managed fine with fingers, or a mouth.”

Bernie just nods, continuing to grind against Serena’s thigh. “But imagine me, dressed in that tux, but also wearing a substantial silicone dick, bending you over and fucking you, taking you from behind and making you come and come and come again until your knees give out, and your thighs are coated with your own juices.”

Serena’s eyes close and she groans as she pictures that exact scenario. It takes her a few moments to realise that she’s coming hard around Bernie’s fingers, and that Bernie is coming atop her thigh.

“Damn you, 007,” she says breathlessly. “Now I want that.”

Bernie smirks, then slides her fingers free of Serena’s slick sex, and leisurely licks them clean. “You taste delicious, Campbell.”

“And you talk dirty very beautifully,” Serena says. She feels boneless and sated, something she hasn’t felt for a very long time.

“Thank you.” Bernie lifts herself off Serena’s leg, then stretches out beside her on the bed. “Five minutes, then I’ll go back to my room.”

“Do you have to?” Serena asks. “I’d much rather you stayed here for the rest of the night. 

“And if someone sees me leaving in the morning and correctly puts two and two together?”

“Would it trouble you, if people knew we were lovers?”

“I think the more pertinent question is if it’ll trouble you, if not now, then in the long term. We both know how heteronormative the Old Boys’ network is. I don’t want to spike your chances of becoming M. Because trust me on this, Campbell, you’d do a bloody good job. Certainly better than Levy’s been doing the last handful of years.”

“You really are a strategist, Major Wolfe.” Serena doesn’t bother to hide her admiration. She lies silently beside the other woman, considering what Bernie’s said, then she sighs, but before she can speak again, Bernie’s already moving. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll grab a shower before I leave. Don’t want to go out there smelling of sex – be a bit bloody obvious what we’ve been doing if I did that.”

“Mind if I join you?” Serena asks as casually as she can manage, not trying to hide her appreciative stare as she takes in how truly gorgeous Berenice Wolfe is – all long legs, toned muscles, and firm breasts. A lean body and a sharp mind are, Serena’s discovering, pretty much representative of her ideal woman.

“Why not,” Bernie says, that cocky grin back again.

“God, you’re incorrigible,” Serena says with a snort.

“Yeah, but admit it, Campbell, you like it.”

“God help me, I do,” she agrees, and slides off the bed, then takes Bernie’s offered hand and lets herself be led into the ensuite. She wishes that she could wake up in the other woman’s arms tomorrow morning, and every morning thereafter. She has a feeling that she’s already falling in love, which is really damned inconvenient, especially as she has no idea if Bernie feels even remotely the same way. For all Serena knows, Bernie’s going to chalk this up as just a one night stand.

Perhaps, after she’s made M, they can be together. She’ll hope so, but in the meantime she plans on having some fun right here and now.

She pushes Bernie back against the wall of the shower cubicle, then sinks to her knees at the other woman’s feet, looking up at her with an adoration she doesn’t bother trying to hide. Bernie groans, then clutches at Serena’s head as she leans in and drags her tongue up the length of Bernie’s sex. She wonders how many orgasms she can give her before her knees start to protest. 

“I somehow expected that I’d be the one on my knees in front of you,” Bernie says huskily.

“You did that already,” Serena observes. “My turn now.”

“By all means,” Bernie says chivalrously, making Serena chuckle silently to herself. Major Berenice Wolfe really is something special, she’s coming to realise, and she very much likes her way of thinking.

“For someone who’s on their knees and supposed to be fucking me, you really are thinking too much,” Bernie observes after a few minutes. 

“Sorry.” Serena pauses, her hands still gripping the other woman’s hips, but she looks up the length of her body, appreciating the view all over again. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Bernie says gently. She slips her hands under Serena’s arms and easily lifts her to her feet again. “Let me–” She turns them around under the shower spray and presses Serena back against the wall quite gently, then her mouth captures Serena’s while she slides a hand between their bodies and into Serena’s heated sex. 

As much as Serena had wanted to be the one making Bernie come again, she finds she cannot focus enough to protest at being the object of the other woman’s attentions. 

She loses all track of time as Bernie drives her to a couple more orgasms, both more intense than the ones she’d had previously. Then she manages to get her fingers inside Bernie as they kiss, and the Agent’s groan of pleasure at her release is pretty satisfying, Serena finds.

As they towel themselves dry afterwards, Serena quietly says, “I don’t want you to leave.” She can’t look at Bernie as she says the words.

Strong hands clasp her shoulders, then the tips of two fingers slide under her chin and tilt her face up. 

“Believe me, Campbell, I really don’t want to leave. I’d much rather take you back to bed and hold you close until we both fall asleep, then wake you in the morning with my mouth between your legs.” Serena shudders at the image Bernie’s conjured. “So, the question is, do you want to become M? Because if you do, we cannot do this without being assured of better security and secrecy than this public hotel offers us.”

Serena feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she swallows hard. “Now that you’ve put the idea into my head with such confidence in my ability to do the job, I think I do want to go for the top job.”

Bernie nods, as if this is the answer she’s expecting. It probably is, Serena realises – the other woman seems to know her far better than Serena knows the woman behind the 007 designation. She presses a kiss to Serena’s temple, drawing her into a warm embrace.

“Then you understand that I absolutely cannot be seen leaving your room after staying the night?”

“Yes,” Serena sighs, disappointed but resigned.

“I understand this is hard, Serena,” Bernie says, her voice low but passionate. “Believe me, I do understand. The things that we, as women, have to sacrifice in order to succeed in what’s still a man’s world as far as espionage and the British Secret Intelligence Service is concerned, is infuriating.” 

Serena hears her swallow and when she pulls back, she sees moisture in the corners of Bernie’s eyes, so she brushes her lips against Bernie’s mouth.

“I would very much like to strut about with you on my arm, the envy of all whom we meet because I have a beautiful, smart, funny, and capable woman in my life, and in my bed. But you cannot throw away your career prospects for the sake of me.”

“You know your problem, Berenice Wolfe?” Serena asks, and when Bernie shakes her head, she continues, “You’re too bloody noble for your own good.”

“No, I’m not,” Bernie says immediately. “I’m practical and pragmatic.”

“And you get what you want,” Serena says, remembering their earlier conversation.

“Yes.” 

She gives Serena a look, eyes glinting, the corners of her mouth curling up. When Serena continues to look puzzled, one eyebrow wings up, and the smile becomes more pronounced.

“Wait, are you saying we’re going to have a secret affair?” Serena feels a thrill of excitement and pleasure spark down her spine.

“We cannot be _seen_ to be together,” Bernie says with emphasis. “We can be together without being seen. But not in a hotel suite. I can upgrade the protection protocols at your residence to match my own, which will give us both far greater security for meeting up. I’ll teach you my stealth techniques, too.”

Serena can’t help kissing her passionately in response to this. “I think I might love you,” she says.

Bernie gives her a surprisingly shy smile. “I already know I love you,” she says with quiet sincerity. She gives Serena a squeeze. “I really do need to get dressed and get out of here, but we’ll talk again once we’re back on the island.”

“Just talk?” Serena asks coyly.

Bernie snorts. “Of course not. Once I get you to a properly secure location I am going to fuck you senseless, then hold you all night while you sleep the sleep of the sated. And then I’ll wake you with my mouth between your legs before we breakfast together.”

Serena groans, then moves to sit on the bed, and watches while Bernie gets dressed again. She is both shocked and immensely aroused when the other woman produces a spare clean pair of shorts from her trouser pocket to wear instead of the somewhat sodden ones she took off earlier. When Bernie catches her eye, her infamous smirk is back in place, and she winks, then says “Always be prepared, Serena”, in a ridiculous stage whisper.

Bernie meticulously folds up, bags, then pockets the other pair of shorts, and Serena feels her sex clench at the knowledge that 007 is going to be walking around the hotel with a pair of drenched knickers in her pocket.

They share another passionate kiss, during which Bernie’s hands are all over Serena’s body, then she pulls away, drops a kiss on Serena’s brow, before sketching a wave. 

“See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Bernie.” Serena suspects she’s going to have erotic dreams tonight, and she finds herself hoping that Bernie will too.

She can hardly wait for their return to the island tomorrow evening. She very much wants a whole night with 007: she has a feeling it will be unforgettable. 

She sighs, before settling down to sleep.


End file.
